


Just a Little Murder

by R_Strailo (Strailo)



Series: Assassins and Lust [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Character Death, Crossdressing, Dark, Dark Character, Death, Killing, M/M, On Wattpad to, Original Character Death(s), Poisoning, casual mentions of drug use, hints of male/male, some onscreen killing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-11-30 16:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strailo/pseuds/R_Strailo
Summary: He had a list of targets. They had been stupid and pissed off his bosses in some kind of way.So he would go for them, one at a time.He would show them that in the World of Darkness, there were Rules. It didn't matter if you were psychopathic, sociopathic, or just all out insane, you FOLLOWED those Rules.And that breaking them was a bad idea.





	1. Just a Little Murder 1

Title: Just a Little Murder  
Chapter: 1  
World: Assassins and Lust  
Book: 1  
AN: This story is kind of me playing with a world that I'm not so sure as to what I'm doing with it. 

I do post this on WattPad and I'll be updating here as I remember it, but I'm hoping to post it once a week like I do on WattPad. But just a few days after the posting on WP.

If you want the chapters before this one, go check it out on Wattpad.com.

I must tell you guys that each part is kind of short. Like I said, I'm not sure as to what I'm going to do with it but I have book (if you can call it a book) 2's plot so I'm going to be doing things with that as soon as I can.

But for now, I hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading

 

*~*~*~*

 

“I think…”

 

He trailed off as he tapped a long nail against the tip of his nose, a leer spreading over his lips as his eyes flicked over the pictures.

 

“I think that you shall be the first to be one of the first to die. Yes, I do believe so.”

 

Reaching out, he traced the forehead of a pretty woman that his people had brought him with one finger. She was smiling at someone off camera, wearing something that made him think of an over-stylized dominatrix with all sorts of belts and bits of leather and chains. Dyed blue hair had been scraped back into a ponytail that brushed her knees, making him click his tongue at just how unprofessional such a length was.

 

Unless it was one of the basic, everyday wigs that a person could buy online or from a store of some kind.

 

But he highly doubted that. He knew that she wasn’t that smart, or at least that was what his research had told him. Just look at the fact that she had gone after one of his boss’s favorite contact. She had killed the man’s lover out of petty spite just because he liked cock instead of pussy more often than not.

 

It was really quite pathetic that such a person could be trained in doing such a career seeing as they had a very strict code of conduct. But he was thinking that she, like the other four that were on his wall, didn’t know a thing about what it meant to be a part such a world. He would have to do some more research before he started to go after them, find out who their Masters were.

 

He had a very bad feeling that he wasn’t going to like what he found out, but he would still do what needed to be done. He had been asked to do this after all, giving him all of the freedom to do what he wanted to do with each of the chosen targets.

 

But her...she just seemed to push all of the right buttons to make him want to make her death just that much more painful. Usually he would do what he had to do with a sedative and some specialized poison that would kill without waking the person up. But that was just the way he had been trained to do it by his Master.

 

But with her...he would take special pleasure in planning the way she would die.

 

Smiling, he chuckled and bit at his thumb nail, idly wondering if he could get in to change out his nails for a something a little more sharp.

 

And perhaps shorter.

 

There was absolutely no reason to have a nail yanked off by being too long when he dug them into her skin while subduing her after all. That always turned out painful for him and he hated it when it happened.

 

After all, he had such _interesting_ plans brewing.

 


	2. Just a Little Murder 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously guys, this story is dark.

Sighing as the tapping of computer keys filled his room, he bit at his bottom lip before he wrinkled his nose at the taste of his current lipstick. “Ugh,” he muttered, grabbing at his can of soda and washing the taste of lipstick off of his tongue. “Why can’t these people make their shit _taste_ as good as it looks?” he complained to his computer. It didn’t answer, running the search that he had set it on.

 

Pouting to it as he watched numbers and faces flash across his screen, he picked up a pen and made a note to buy a much more powerful computer for his information hunts when he could do that. His current baby wasn’t working for him any more.

 

Then again, the wifi that he was using, encrypted to high hell or not, just sucked that much.

 

Slouching in the hotel chair that sat next to the table he was using as a desk, he crossed his legs as he looked from the laptop screen to his portable magnetic white board. Spread over it was the pictures of the four targets that he was to take care of, and the information that he had on them so far. There hadn’t been as much information as he had wanted when he had first run their names, but he had found some threads that he was following.

 

Still, the lack of information told him that the personas that they presented to the rest of the world was weak, which told him that they hadn’t taken the lessons on creating solid personas to heart.

 

Which was making him feel kind of worried about just who he was going after. It wasn’t ever fun to go after someone who could not keep up with him in any way after all.

 

His attention was drawn towards his computer when it beeped at him, eyes looking at the screen and placing his hand on his external mouse, opening the created information file on his first target. “Name: predictable. Age: Older than she looks, shocking. So called career: seriously? An accountant? ugh, how dull,” he snorted, narrowing his eyes at something. “She really has no known Master? Really? What the fuck does that mean, you stupid program?” he snarled.

 

Placing his fingers back onto the keyboard, careful of his new nails, he started to rapidly type, hunting down any information that the program hadn’t been able to find. An hour later, and he had nearly half of a spiral notebook with notes on his first target. Mostly for his own use but to also create his final report with as much information as he could.

 

He was nearly salivating at the thought of taking her down from the information that he had uncovered.

 

Her name wasn’t her first. Her real name was connected to a past as a trained dominatrix who had been removed from the community outside of a few clubs that were on a list of bad clubs. She had hooked up with a freelancing assassin one night, a guy who wasn’t liked all that much, and had done a job or two with him. She found she had a taste for murder and had changed her name, becoming an accountant.

 

And a freelancing assassin that would take any job out there. And she did it all without any kind of proper training and only the occasional communication with the man who had gotten her into the world.

 

He _despised_ stupid bitches like her. She gave the rest of them who had trained, and trained _hard_ for years, to get to where they were a bad name. And she wasn’t even that good in keeping herself hidden from the eyes of Judgement.

 

Pulling in a slow breath and letting it out just as slowly, he clicked his tongue and stood. Walking around his table and to his refrigerator, pulling it open and pulling out a smallish bottle of wine. Closing the refrigerator, he picked up a clean wine glass and poured the wine into the glass, tossing the empty bottle away. Once he had sat again, he tasted the drink and smirked, starting to adjust his plans in how he would deal with her stupid ass.

 

He was now going to show her, in graphic detail, just how a trained assassin who had trained with a Master handled a death. And he was going to do it with so much _glee_.

 


	3. Just a Little Murder 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting going.

 

He had moved onto researching his three other targets and found himself kind of bored with them. One was a guy who was running a rather nasty little slave ring that in the public eye was a LGBTQ+ safe house and shelter outside of his nightlife with a gunn. Another was a so called ‘housewife’ whose dear husband was stepping out on her with his pretty little secretary.

 

Who was a male.

 

And of course the last one was actually sleeping with a higher classed freelance assassin.

 

They were all dull to him but they did do their jobs properly. He really found it interesting though that their Masters had been Masterless Assassins that had taught them somewhat good enough.

 

Grunting and flopping back into his chair, he tapped his nails rhythmically, and debated the pros and cons of calling his own Master and now boss with the information that he had discovered. He did have some wine in his system, and while it didn’t do much beyond making him more expressive after three or four glasses of the better stuff his Master was picky. It would probably end up in his Master giving him a _Look_ and then ignoring the fact that he had alcohol in his system.

 

Still, he did so hate those _Looks._

 

Huffing, he reached out and saved the report that he had been working on before he closed the file, saving the links that he had found for later reading. He would need them to make sure that his report was fully fleshed out after all. With that done, he opened his favorite IM and logged in with one of the many names that he used. Finding that his master was on, he clicked the call option and waited for him to answer.

 

“I had a feeling that you would be calling me sometime during this job, Aran.” Aran rolled his eyes in a mix of amusement and annoyance.

 

“Yes, yes, yes. You are all knowing, Kilen,” he drawled, waving a hand. “I managed to find out a few things about my targets.”

 

“Tell me,” Kilen instructed, ignoring the half empty wine glass that sat just outside of the laptop camera’s view. He had a feeling that he would be needing his own glass of something strong by the time that his Student had finished with his basic verbal report.

 

That thought was proven right when Aran finished ten minutes later, twitching and obviously holding onto his need to kill someone with a show of extreme will power. It wasn’t as if his young Student had much sanity or morals going for him as it was, but to see him want someone’s blood this badly was rare.

 

Finding his hidden bottle of scotch and glass, Kilen poured some into the glass and drained it quickly, the burn soothing some of his own bubbling anger. “I will do my own research into your last target. And into your first. Call me after you have dealt with the second one,” he instructed. Aran wrote down a note with a nod. “I want a full report of everything that will happen. Record it if you have to. Fuck them if it comes down to it. But _he_ wants them taken out. They are generating to much chaos and that is never a good thing in this world.”

 

Aran gave his Master’s face a searching look before he nodded. “Very well. I shall start my surveillance on my first target tomorrow afternoon. I have to swing by a shop to pick up a few things,” he said as he started a list of supplies to get. “Can you send me a list of safe houses in the various cities?” he asked, sending the list that he had compiled to his Master.

 

Kilen smirked at his Student, green eyes dancing with mirth. “I will send you the list in an hours time. Until then, continue with your planning.

 

With those instructions, he ended the call. Aran hummed and drained the last of the wine. He had a feeling that the rest of his job was going to be interesting. Putting the glass down, he wondered what Katlin was up to and if she was doing her usual Bathory impersonation with her latest job.

 


	4. Just a Little Murder 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark turn is dark.

Staring at the building that held the club his target was visiting, Aran sucked harshly on the sucker in his mouth, twisting it around with his tongue. He had followed her to her favorite hotspot and mourned a little at the fact that she had an actual schedule, and a predictable one at that. One that he had figured out on the first day.

It hurt him in his professionalism that people actually  _paid_  her to do his job.

"I have to say that if someone isn't watching her or doesn't know about her, they're slipping up rather badly. Either that or she's been really lucky so far," he snorted, eyes flicking to the small computer that was recording his words. Pulling his sucker out of his mouth, he wrapped it up in it's own wrapping and pulled out his usual "Playing the Designated Driver, so kicking it in car," sign and stuck it in his window.

He continued to watch the entry to the club, occasionally looking at his phone and flicking through the hacked live feed of the camera's that were over each of the doors and inside. It didn't take him long to find his target in a private room. He clicked his tongue as she chose an obviously well used body slave, one that looked like he was an inch from falling into a grave, and flicked to an outside view on his phone.

"Reminder: Call the Master and tell him about this club. No doubt that he can get the place raided and get the body slaves some kind of help. Or if not, the option to find a proper Master who can help them piece together their minds again," he said, watching the words appear on his computer screen. Plugging his phone into his car charger, he set it to a multi-camera view before he pulled out a small tablet and starting to play a game on it.

He was only bothered once when a nice bouncer from the club that he was parked next to handed him a sealed bottle of water and a sealed bottle of soda, along with a 'free meal' ticket from the fast food place on the other side of them. He had fun flirting with the guy, getting his number and promising to call when he wasn't playing 'taxi' to his so called 'friends'.

Checking the video feed, he huffed softly. "Note: her style is basic. Vanilla. She does hit harder than is allowed in the good clubs, and will most likely kill her current body slave if she's planning on doing what I'm thinking she will be. This bitch gives even banned Doms and Subs bad names," he said. He snorted and shook his head. "Idea for when I deal with her: use her own whip, which is a rather nice one but still kind of cheap, to hang her from her ceiling. Might have to reinforce it with some steel wire so the cheap ass leather doesn't break."

Reaching out, he saved the file and flipped his computer down as he watched as his target pout at someone out of the camera frame as she folded a dildo and a strap-on harness before putting away all of her things. She let some big ass man unstrap the body slave from the horse that she had her strapped down to.

"The bitch can't even take care of her things after a session, much less her sub. Slave or not, that's just bad form," he drawled as he tucked his computer away.

He waited until she had gotten to her car and started his own, pulling away from the club soon after to take a different route to her house, following the GPS bug that he had planted on her car a couple of days before.

"Ah, well, such is the bullshit that one goes through when hunting for untrained prey," he mused when he drove past her house, taking in the fact that the lost were rather set apart. "Especially untrained prey that doesn't know better and buys a home that is so far apart. Naughty girl. I bet that didn't even think to do a double soundproofing of her home instead of just insulating it," he said, smirking as he drove off.

He had just a bit more research to do yet before he could finally deal with the bitch that made his people look so bad. It was going to be fun when he did it. 


	5. Just a Little Murder 5

Chapter 5

WARNING: Please note that this chapter includes straight up murder. Thank you.

 

Panting as he wiped the blood from his split lip, Aran ignored the sting as the wound split open again, standing straight and sneering at the bitch that had the audacity to make his job any harder than it had to be. She glared as her body twitched, making him smirk. "You know, you really should have just let me drug your ass all nice and easy. But noooo, you had to show me your stupidity and try to fight me. You're lucky that your had a cattle prod in your hand otherwise you wouldn't have gotten half of your hits in," he huffed. His body protested the fact that he was upright but he ignored it.

He silently promised himself that he would treat himself to Kailen's tender care later. Maybe get a little fun out of it.

Sighing as he bent over, Aran grabbed her wrists in a strong hold and hauled her towards the bedroom with a growl, dragging her along. "You know, I was just going to make this shit look like a bad case of autoerotica aphyxiation and call it all good. But noooo, you had to be a stupid bitch and fuck that plan up on me. Gods, how did you get away with all of the shit that you've pulled since you started?" he asked.

He grunted when he found the bedroom and dropped her to the ground, ignoring her wince of pain. He left the room, knowing that she wasn't going anywhere any time, going to gather the proper cans of accelerant that he had grabbed just in case something had gone wrong.

He had chosen the one he had because unlike gas or other accelerants, it didn't leave any streaks or patterns, but burnt just as well. He would have to send Michelle a gift basket later for creating such useful, interesting things.

Back in the room, he frowned at the fact that the bitch had gathered enough coordination to flip over onto her stomach as he placed the cans down. Huffing, he pulled out a small bottle that held dark red liquid and a cloth, pouring it onto a cloth, walking over to her, shoes making no noise. Standing over her, feet on either side of her hips, uncaring that he was painfully standing on one of her hands, he used his free hand to jerk her head back by her hair, pressing the cloth over her nose and mouth. He felt her jerk at that and try to move as she inhaled the paralytic, wondering just what kind of gift basket he would be sending to Michelle for her creations.

Maybe one that was filled with all sorts of goodies from her favorite bakeries and a spa day.

Once he was sure that she had been immobilized fully, he sighed and tucked the cloth into a small baggy, along with the bottle. "Really? Trying to get away? I think that you should know by now that you're going to die in a most painful way. At least with the way that I was thinking of doing it would have meant that you would have gotten off. The whole 'little death' thing," he drawled. He moved to the cans and picked up the first one.

He padded over to the overly-large round bed with blankets that looked to be red velvet. "Very love motel chic. This will work," he muttered, popping the top of the first can, starting to very carefully soak the bed in the accelerant. He used two more cans on the bed and the area around it before he moved back to his target. Dragging her over, he pushed and pulled her into place on the bed.

Her eyes wide wide with horror at the realization as to what he was about to do to her. Leaning over her at the head of the bed, he smoothed her hair back with one gloved hand, the dark blue a stark contrast against her newly dyed neon pink hair. "Ah, there it is. The understanding that all of your actions do have consequences. You should be really glad that it's me, and not K after you, dearheart. She would have enjoyed fucking you, while you were high on something preferably, just before she killed you. She's quite broken in such a way that sex to her is just a new way to break her female targets."

He sighed as he straightened, staring down at her with a frown as he adjusted his gloves.

"Then again, anyone in this life is a little fucked up," he mused as he walked around the bed to grab the fourth can of accelerant, pouring it in a slow stream. He worked in a spiral that came from the bed and came to the bedroom door. Done with that, he put them on the ground by the doorway to grab on his way out. "You were a very bad girl when you didn't look for a proper Master, dear. You had such promise but you broke so many rules," he sighed, pulling out a match box with a smile.

Her eyes widened at the sight as a whimper escaped from her.

"Unluckily for you, this will be your last mistake," he said, striking a match and dropping it onto the ground, watching as the accelerant slowly started to be eaten by the fire. While the fire followed the spread of the accelerant, spreading outwards as it could, he picked up the cans and headed out of the house.

His job was done. Someone would come around and do the clean up for him. It would take the fire department a good ten minutes at least to get there, and by then? She would be ashes and bits of bone that would tell them shit for all.

He chuckled to himself as he walked out of the side door and got into his car. He found his phone and called a well known number.

"Job one is done."


	6. Just a Little Murder 6

Chapter 6

Staring at his chosen lover of the night as he slept, Aram smirked a little to himself, his nail scratching at his chin while he thought. While the man hadn't been the best, he had been a good enough time for him to enjoy.

Had some good stamina to. Not great, but that was what you got when you chose a younger male for a fun time.

Sliding out of his bed, leaving his lover to sleep the sleep of the well fucked, he pulled his robe on the way out of the bedroom and into the main room of the suite. He had moved from his other room to the suite after he had finished his first job and had cleaned the other room.

He smirked as he thought that maybe he had left it cleaner than when he had arrived, and Kilen had agreed that it had been a good idea.

Walking over to his refrigerator, he opened it and shifted around in the small space before pulling out a small bottle of vodka that he had brought with him earlier, along with a small can of soda to go with it. Pouring a mix of the soda and vodka into a chilled glass, he put the bottles away and padded out to the balcony with drink in hand.

He paused just outside of the doors to bask in the gentle breeze that teased over the city, taking a seat in one of the wicker chairs. The vodka and soda was sharp and crisp on his tongue as his eyes took in the skyline, mind turning to days long gone. He could still remember how it gone from a type of hell for him to something a whole lot better.

He had always been the odd one out, and being raised in the boondocks of the bible belt had made it that much worse. It didn't help that his so called 'uncle' had been running a pseudo-Christian cult over the entire fucking town. Actually being raised to watch witch burnings could screw up a normal kid.

And even before that, he hadn't been 'normal' in any sense of the word.

He still thought that he was the bastard child of his mother and his 'uncle' no matter what they tried to say. Seeing as she liked her drugs a little too much, and the man's dick, he kind of didn't believe them worth shit. Especially since his father had a thing for teen males even as he fucked his mother as often as he could get it up.

Dysfunctional family and cult like religions could fuck up anyone after all. His crossdressing had come from a need to keep away from his father, just to be safe, after all. But he had discovered that he rather liked it.

Humming to himself, Aran smirked and drained his cup, putting it to the side for the moment. "I really need to call, Kilen. I really do," he mused. He shrugged his shoulders. He would call the man the next day when he sent in his 'manuscript plans'.

He smirked. His one night stand had snooped around on his computer while he had been showering, but the man had found nothing but manuscript plans, plans with various comments on them, and half finished stories.

Aran had been lucky to discover that he had a knack for writing shortly after he had started his training. It helped that most of the stories that he was currently writing had some basis on some of his own missions with others.

His first book, Just a Little Murder, was due to come out in just six months time, a story that had taken him three years to get right. When he decided to 'retire', as much as one can retire from their lives, he had something to fall back onto.

It always amused him just how one small change in a person's life could switch the path of their life from something dark to something at least mildly gray in coloring.


	7. Just a Little Murder 7

Aran hummed tunelessly as he tapped out a text message to Kilen before his eyes danced over the people who were mingling about with others at the ticketed donation event. All of the money that supposedly went to helping people move into a new life.

They even had some supposed 'success stories' playing on large screens scattered about the room. He supposed that some of them were true since quite a few weren't exactly what was looked for in a sex slave. Much less a slave for anything else.

Wrinkling his nose, he turned back to his phone and sent the message for his Master to have someone dig into the people that had gone through the house, and hopefully find them all. He had no doubt that there was someone in one of the many agencies that would like to know what was going on. Then maybe they could do their jobs and get them out of such a situation to decide what they wanted to do.

Clicking his tongue, Aran tucked his phone back into his purse, smiling some more as his eyes closed halfway, watching the way his target scammed the idiots who swallowed his honeyed bullshit with ease. He found it so amusing that such jaded people could believe what the man was saying.

To Aran, his target was a slimy little snail who needed to be salted and burnt. He may not feel like a normal human, but that didn't mean that he would want what had happened to him to happen to others. No innocent human deserved that fate.

Especially if it was a child who had the whole world against them for their sexuality or gender identity.

Hiding his sneer behind his wine glass, he drained the cheapish wine before putting it to the side and standing from his table. Tucking his purse into the crook of one arm, he walked over to his target with a sweet smile. He was suddenly very glad that it was a semi-formal event that anyone could buy a ticket from, so he wasn't the only cross-dressing male in the room. His floor length skirt luckily hid the four inch chunk heels that were reinforced on the back and a semi-loose skirt hid the small gun on one thigh so much better than a pair of pants.

Both weapons were just in case he got a chance to take out the idiot before his current plan happened. He decided that wouldn't be a bad thing at all.


	8. Just a Little Murder 8

Part 9

Warning: Killing via poison but not described in great detail.

 

Patting his target's hair down, he snickered at the fact that all it took to knock him out was a combination of pills, alcohol and outright good sex. His fellow bedwarmer had already left, walking off with a few thousand dollars from the man's safe and not caring why he had been given the money.

After all, the poor boy did have to hide what he was because dear old daddy dearest would try to take his trust fund away and go after his job, again, if he came out. Which just wasn't all that happy making for Aran.

"Another possible freebie at a later time perhaps," Aran mused, standing and uncaring of his nudity.

Padding over to his duffle bag that he had placed near the door earlier that morning when he had arrived at his targets villa, he found his small medical case. He had passed it off to the guard searching his bag as being a diabetic who had to watch their blood sugar. The man had accepted it. The bad side for him though was the fact that he hadn't been able to have any of the cheesecake that had been offered, but the fruit salad with wildflower honey had been nice. "Such is my life."

He padded into the attached bathroom and closed the door behind him before flipping the light on. He wasn't really worried about waking his target up, knowing that the guy was down for the count, but he didn't want the guards that were walking their guards to know he was awake. Better safe than sorry.

Sitting down on the vanity table bench, he opened the case and smiled at the items within. While the vial said 'insulin' on the outside, in all actuality, it was a clear, very hard to trace poison that Michelle had fiddled around with for years. She had nearly perfected it, getting it's half life once it entered the body to about ten minutes after the heart stopped beating. The fact that it's kill time was ten minutes if absorbed through the skin, and two minutes if injected was just a boon to his line of work.

Pulling out the bottle, a syringe, the needle attachment, and two alcohol wipes, he sang to himself as he put everything together and filled the syringe with the drug. With that all done, he put everything that he was taking with him back into the case and stood, flipping the light off. Stepping out, his phone buzzed and rang quietly with the pre-set text message. He quieted the phone and grumbled softly as the guard walked past, making the bed squeak as if he was moving about on it.

The guard moved on.

Smirking, he turned to his target and wiped at a spot where groin met hip, sticking the thin needle into the skin before depressing the plunger.

With his work done, he wiped off the spot, glad that he had gotten the idiot to take a shower before he wiped down all of the surfaces that he had touched with a washcloth, hanging it up to dry again. By the time that someone noticed that he was dead, the poison would be gone from his system, the towel would be dry, and everyone would think that he had just overdosed on his party favors.

As they discovered his body, Aran would be long gone.

Dressing in a pair of simple pants and long sleeved shirt, he pulled his hair back into a braid, and gathered everything of his. He smiled at the guard as he closed the door behind him. "I wore him out. I think he just might be gone from the world until tomorrow morning, but I was sent a text for an emergency early morning, so I can't linger unfortunately," he said, shaking his head. "Can you tell him that I'll make sure to call him to talk about donation soon?" he asked.

The guard nodded, escorting him out of the house and to the garage where his car waited. Sliding in, Aran put his duffle bag to the side and started the car, pulling out once the door was open enough for him to leave without issue. As he pulled past the front gates, he was already texting Kilen to set up a car makeover and to warn him that he was dying his hair again for a while.

After all, the guards would be remembering him as a blond haired, blue eyed man in a nice suit. Just the type of guy their boss always enjoyed bedding.

They would never to think to look for a black haired, green eyed crossdresser if they did try to hunt him down.

Such knowledge of how people thought and ticked worked for him. It worked for his dark little world to.


	9. Just a Little Murder 9

Chapter 9

 

"Aran."

Aran smirked at his computer screen. "Kilen, love," he purred, the man rolling his eyes at him and huffing softly over the video call.

"I take it that you have arrived safely at the house?" Kilen asked, looking at the gray colored wall behind Aran, the man nodding. "Good. Did the target give you any trouble?" he asked.

"No, no trouble at all. He was surprisingly easy to seduce into bed and even easier to drug," Aran said, shrugging with a slight smile on his pale lips. "I had to dye my hair though, which isn't making me to happy. But all around, it went well." He rested his chin on one hand, thinking. "Well enough that I do doubt that the guards will really think much of his death beyond him OD'ing. They will probably spin it in such a way that makes it seem as if he is some kind of saint."

"I'm sure that they're working on the press release about his death," Kilen drawled. "I will get his cause of death leaked and spread a few rumors about. I am sure that there are people out there that are willing to talk."

Aran snorted softly. "No doubt. Just leave my little friend alone in all of this. His father is seriously a dick and he needs to turn twenty-five before the asshole can't touch him." Kilen nodded and drew a pad of paper along with a pen towards him, jotting down a note. "So what do you have on the other two?" he asked.

"Just what you found out," Kilen said, reaching out to his mouth off screen. A file popped up on Aran's new computer. "Learned their schedules. Pretty standard and what we learned of what they are up to for the next month or so."

Aran smirked at that and leant forward, opening the file to read what Kilen had sent him. He hummed a song that he had listened to earlier while he had dyed his hair, going over the schedule, picking out the bits that would work best for him. "So, spend a day or two following around the housewife and have the husband working, and I can easily take care of her," he said.

Kilen smirked. "Good." He sat back. "And the last one?" he asked.

One delicate hand waved back and forth as Aran flopped back into his own seat. "Easily taken care of to. Though...I have a question." He gazed at his Master. "What do you want me to do with the last one?"

The frown that pulled at Kilen's mouth spoke volumes and the detailed instructions just made him blink but nod.

"I need to go shopping then," he said, sending an account and a number to Kilen. Standing, he cut the call off. First, he had to go get some clothes from a local thrift shop since he was most likely going to burn them, then he had to pick up a car and start driving to his next target.


	10. Just a Little Murder 10

Part 10

"Geeze, this is so much more boring than I thought it would be," Aran muttered as he slumped down in his seat, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. He was sitting in a small car, just out of sight of the house where his current target lived, a badge and a surveillance permit sitting on the passenger side seat.

 

He had already watched the husband leave and was trying to figure out just what he wanted to do with her.

 

Sofar, he had watched as she scraped the snow of last night's stormoff of her front walkway and sidewalk, digging her own car out in thedriveway. After that, she had disappeared into the house, making Aranturn to the cameras that he had planted in the house to watch her dothe breakfast and dishes. As far as he could tell so far, they didn'thave kids, but that didn't matter much to him.

 

If she did have any somewhere, he would make sure that they could go to family that would take them in and stick them in therapy. He would probably set up a good trust fund for them to.

 

Shaking his head, he checked his phone and watched as she started to pack up her bag. It was the normal giant bag that she seemed to prefer, buthe had a feeling that it had a few extra bits. Whistling, he snickered and switched to cameras as she walked out of the house,setting the alarm before she climbed into her car. If his information was correct, she would be going to the local farmer's market to pick up a few things for the week, and then she'd head to a larger chain store to get everything else on her list.

 

Which meant that he would have some time to work his way through the house to properly plan his next move. He still had to figure out what he was going to do with her husband, and how he wanted to spin their deaths.

 

After all, he was supposed to be ruining her very reputation.

 

It didn't really matter if he had to kill the man and his lover. The husband wasn't as innocent as he looked since he liked to cheat,and the lover liked to fuck around as much as he could. Which included his little protectee. He just couldn't allow to let thatasshole stay around especially since he was well known for his loose lips about his lovers.

 

"Alright, so kill them all," Aran chirped to himself. He smirked and slid out of his car, walking up to the front door. It didn't take him long to use the pre-made key to get in, reset the alarm and start to walk the house. He would need all of the information before he planned after all, taking video on his phone.


	11. Just a Little Murder 11

Warning: Some more death. Nothing up in your face, but death.

 

Huffing softly behind the facemask that he wore, Aran helped the drugged up idiot up the stairs, muttering about just how fucked up this shit was. The man giggled and smiled up at him in return, making him roll his eyes and got him into the bedroom, pushing him onto the bed that already held his target's husband. The woman had left on her usual runs and then she would be there soon enough. It wouldn't take that much to take her down, despite the fact that she was on the hefty side.

"Man, I can tell ya now that by the time that I'm done, you guys are going to be fucked," he groaned, pressing his hands to his back and stretching, popping his spine.

He promised that after everything was done, he was going to spoil himself with the huge ass bath in his personal home and some epsom salts. He was not built to haul a linebacker up the damn stairs after all. Of course, the idiot had made it easier by taking something that made the two of them giggly as all fuck. But still.

"I am so going to enjoy killing your damn ass," he growled at the giggly ones, shaking his head. With the two taken cared of, he left the bedroom and went to the guest room, finding the hidden panel and opening it, picking up the gun and silencer with gloved hands.

Checking his watch, he smirked to himself, pulling out his phone to check the GPS tracker that he had stuck on the targets car. She was just turning onto the street, which gave him enough time to kill the two idiots in the bed and started to set the stage. Pulling on the platforms that would give him the extra two inches that she had on him, he walked into the bedroom. He aimed and shot the two with the silenced gun.

Ignoring the now dead bodies, he walked down the stairs and stayed out of direct sight, waiting for the right time to strike on his last target.

He listened as the car pulled up to the front of the garage, the door to the car opening and closing. It didn't take her very long to start hauling her few bags into the house before she closed the door behind her. A small smile spread over his lips as he looked around the edge of the doorway, padding after her on silent feet, pressing the gun against her head.

"Ah, ah, ah. Now, now dear, we have so much to talk about," he cooed, watching her go stiff, a hand trying to reach for the purse. "I wouldn't move," he warned, nudging the gun against her head.

"So, just what are you planning on doing?" she asked, moving her hands to hold up next to her head. Aran's lips stretched further into a smug smile as he pulled out a patch, removing the backing quickly and pressing it against her neck before he pushed her into one of the chairs that sat around the dining room. Once the light sedative was starting to work, he set about doing just what he needed to do next.

No need for a double murder suicide to go wrong after all.


	12. Just a Little Murder 12

Chapter 12

 

Going over the house with a fine tooth comb, he made sure that everything was set up perfectly for when the bodies were found. He had already placed his main target in the noose and had knocked her chair out from her, leaving her to twitch and hang while he went over the house. He had set up the rest of the house as if she had found her husband in bed with another man and had lost her mind, killing both of them before she hung herself nearly an hour later.

That is after she had drank nearly an entire bottle of vodka.

Kilen had cleared it when he had talked about the plan in a generalized way, using the manuscript cover story for anyone who was daring to spy on him or his boss.

Finishing with the walk through, Aran gathered up all of his supplies, pulled the hood of his plain jacket up and walked out of the back door of the house. He hummed a happy song as he set the alarm on the way out, leaving the now darkened backyard. With that done, he walked down the alleyway that sat between the backyards, ignoring the soft huffs from one of the dogs that was out of there to do his thing. His car was parked alongside a new safe house and he walked into the backdoor. He changed jackets, pulling on a medium blue one instead, dropped his bag into a tote, closed it, and grabbed it before getting ready to leave. He acted like he had been there the entire day as he carried the tote as he walked out of the front door, closing and locking it behind him.

Walking up to his car, he popped the trunk and put the tote into it with a chuckle and slid into the driver's side. Turning it on, he let the interior warm up along with the car itself as he called Kilen. "Well, I can tell you that was a rather fun interview," he chirped when his boss picked up.

"I take it that it went well?" Kilen asked, his tone amused.

"Very. But she kind of seemed a little upset, I guess you can say. I don't know. I left a few minutes ago and I'm just waiting for my car to finish heating up. So I'll be finishing the mockup of the script and I'll send it to you in the next hour. Then I need to check out that last person that I have on my interview list," he said, smiling at the soft chuckle.

"I look forward to your mockup," Kilen drawled before he hung up. Plugging his phone into his phone charger, Aran pulled off the leather gloves that he had pulled on and then removed the gloves that he had used, shoving them into a bag on his passenger bag. With that done, he wiggled his hands at the warmth and pulled off his jacket, leaving him in his sweater.

He looked around the neighborhood and smiled, noting that it was dark enough that no one could tell what he really looked like before he tugged it off and adding it to the bag. He shoved both items into a duffle bag that he had on the floor along with the cosplay costume within. If he was pulled over, he had tickets to an anime con and a cosplay costume to wear at said con, but he doubted he would need it.

After all, the hour long call that he had been on with the woman was enough of a cover, but the con helped him with the wig. "Job well done," he cooed to himself.


End file.
